When You Wish Upon a Star: A Phanfiction Parody (deleted scenes)
by JustGoogleIt
Summary: As the title states, this fic will be a collection of deleted scenes from "When You Wish Upon a Star: A Phanfiction Parody". It will not make much sense and it will be updated on a "when I feel like it" basis. Reader discretion is advised... (For the record, I feel it's important for me to state that the only drug I do is caffeine...) Anyway, have a lovely day! :)
1. Introduction

Introduction:

Hello Lovely reader!

Welcome, brave soul, to the deleted scenes (and deleted ideas) of When You Wish Upon a Star: A Phanfiction Parody, hereby referred to as WYWUAS: APP.

You may choose to pronounce this as an acronym ("why-woo-a-sap"), an initialism ("W-Y-W-U-A-S-colon-A-P-P"), or (like I do) simply make a "mmm" noise in your mind whenever you see it in writing, thus acknowledging its existence without committing to any particular pronunciation. The choice is entirely yours.

Warning:

This fic will not make sense. However, it may make _slightly_ more sense if you've read WYWUAS: APP. Or it may not; you never know.

Now, you're probably thinking, "Yeah, but have you seen that fic?! It's freaking long! I don't have that kind of time!"

Well, neither did I, but I still wrote it... ;)

Should you choose to proceed without having read WYWUAS: APP... I admire your resolve, you rebel! Who needs convention anyway? ;) Best of luck!

Format:

This will be a series of one-shot deleted scenes from WYWUAS: APP. Each chapter will be a different scene. I will be including author's notes explaining where each scene was supposed to fit into the story, what part of phanfiction I was attempting to parody, and why I cut it out.

This fic will be updated on a "whenever I feel like it" basis. If you would like this mindless drabble to fill your inbox directly, feel free to follow the story... :)

Disclaimer:

The thoughts, opinions, and situations expressed in this completely and utterly fictitious account do not necessarily reflect the views of the creator and/or any other affiliated persons. The author renounces all rights to the characters of Daniel James Howell and/or Philip Michael Lester. (In the event that I include more YouTubers than just them in these deleted scenes, assume that I do not own them either. In fact, let's just go ahead and assume that I don't own anyone... I swear, even the characters that I DO make up have minds of their own...)

Conclusion:

Thank you so much for reading my stories, you lovely person you.

Best wishes!

~Bethany


	2. Dizzy Yet?

**A/N: Hello Lovely Reader!**

**(Whoa! Author's note at the top?! This is so disorienting!)**

**This following is basically a rant about unnecessary first-person point of view (POV) shifts. I feel the need too warn you that I went to bed at three A.M. last night (technically this morning) so... yeah. Viewer discretion is advised. **

**For the record, I don't mind _occasional_ POV shifts to offer greater insight into other characters, but _most_ shifts in RPF are completely unnecessary. If you need to show what multiple characters are thinking or feeling, I suggest writing in third-person. Constantly switching between POVs could give your readers whiplash ;)**

**I wanted to include a scene somewhat like this in my fic, but logistically, it's just weird because my fic is written in third-person. **

**Then again... everything I write is pretty odd, so... **

**Seriously, I won't blame anyone who turns back now. Go in peace.**

**Best wishes!**

**~Bethany**

* * *

**WHERE IT WOULD HAVE GONE: ****One of Mel's fics (the ones that intro her chapters) would have been written in POV shift format. I probably wouldn't have exaggerated to _quite_ this extent.**

**WHAT I TRIED TO PARODY: Unnecessary POV shifts.**

**WHY I CUT IT OUT: It was weird... O_o**

* * *

Phil's POV:

It's a pretty nice day. The sunlight is coming in through the window. I wonder what Dan thinks about it?

* * *

Dan's POV:

It's a pretty nice day. The sunlight is coming in through the window. I think I'll go to Starbucks.

"Phil, I'm going to Starbucks," I say. I wonder if Phil wants to come too... I employ my communication skills. "Do you want to come too?" I ask.

* * *

Phil's POV:

"Phil," he says, "I'm going to Starbucks. Do you want to come too?"

Hmm, this is strange. I could've sworn we went yesterday. I voice my concerns in the form of spoken language.

"Didn't we just go yesterday?" I ask quizzically.

* * *

Dan's POV:

He responds quizzically, "Didn't we just go yesterday?"

Now that he mentions it, yes, we did go yesterday. A flood of memories washes over me as I remember... everything. My entire life flashes before my eyes.

* * *

Phil's POV:

Dan looks as though a flood of memories is washing over him, perhaps even that his entire life is flashing before his eyes... which is weird because we were just talking about coffee.

After a bit, I decide to subtly request more information in the form of a socially acceptable question.

"What's up?" I ask.

* * *

Dan's POV:

"What's up?" Phil asks after a bit.

I shake my head quickly to stop the flashbacks. My brain registers that Phil has asked me a socially acceptable question to disguise either concern or confusion. I search my mind for a socially acceptable response. I locate one.

"Nothing," I say. I proceed to change the subject. "Do you want to go or not?"

* * *

Phil's POV:

"Nothing," he says before reverting back to the original topic of our conversation. "Do you want to go or not?"

I think about it. I like coffee. I would like to have some.

"Yeah," I reply, "I'll go."

* * *

Dan's POV:

"Yeah," he replies, "I'll go."

I interpret from this response that he intends to join me in my pursuit of caffeinated beverages. I smile. I like coffee.

We leave the apartment and begin walking towards Starbucks.

* * *

Phil's POV:

He smiles at me. I think he likes coffee too. We leave the apartment and begin walking towards Starbucks.

Upon arriving I hold the door open for him because I'm not a jerk.

"Thanks," he says.

* * *

Dan's POV:

Upon arriving at Starbucks, Phil holds the door open for me. I appreciate the gesture of kindness and express my gratitude by way of the English language.

"Thanks," I say.

We join the end of the line. In front of me, a girl is wearing sweatpants with the word "Cheer" written across her butt. I read the word.

* * *

Phil's POV:

We join the end of the line rather than bypassing all the other people because, as I mentioned before, we're not jerks.

The girl standing directly in front of Dan is wearing sweats with the word "Cheer" written across her butt. I see him reading the word. I also read the word, because it is there.

* * *

Girl's POV:

I have the sneaking suspicion that the two guys behind me are staring at my butt. I feel harassed.

I turn around and look at them. They're quite tall.

"Stop looking at my butt," I say coldly.

* * *

Dan's POV:

The girl in line in front of me spins around. She speaks coldly. "Stop looking at my butt," she demands.

I feel that this is unfair. Logically, if she wanted people to stop looking at her butt, she shouldn't use it to advertise her favorite sport. I decide that this is not the socially acceptable response and search for a better one.

"I wasn't," I lie.

* * *

Phil's POV:

The girl with "Cheer" on her butt spins around to look at us. She seems slightly mad. "Stop looking at my butt," she requests.

"I wasn't," Dan insists.

I back him up. "Yeah, we're just standing behind you," I say.

This seems to aggravate her further however. "Oh my god!" she exclaims. "What has this world come to that a girl can't order a friggin' cup of coffee without being sexually harassed?"

At this point, my desire to leave exceeds my desire for coffee, but I stay for Dan's sake.

* * *

Girl's POV:

"I wasn't," the taller one says.

"Yeah, we're just standing behind you," the other one insists.

Now I'm really pissed. I know sexual harassment when I see it, and this is definitely it. A girl should be able to wear whatever the hell she wants, wherever the hell she wants, whenever the hell she wants, and not be harassed about it. If I want to wear words on my butt, I bloody well am going to wear words on my butt and no one has the right to read them.

I state my frustrations by way of a rhetorical question.

"Oh my god!" I exclaim. "What has this world come to that a girl can't order a friggin' cup of coffee without being sexually harassed?"

That'll show them. Nobody reads my butt.

* * *

Man-Reading-Newspaper-at-Nearby-Table's POV:

There seems to be a disturbance in the line. I glance up from my paper to see a very aggravated-looking girl talking to two guys. Damn, she has a nice arse. Wait, is that a word written on it? I squint to try to make it out from my position at the table.

* * *

Barista's POV:

I check the clock with a sigh. Five more hours of torture and then I'm going to a barbecue. Oh crap! I forgot to make the potato salad I promised to bring. Oh well, maybe I'll just stop at Tesco's on the way there...

"Next!" I holler.

* * *

Dan's POV:

"Yeah, we were just standing behind you," Phil backs me up.

This seems to be the wrong thing to say. She looks pretty mad.

"Oh my god!" she exclaims. "What has this world come to that a girl can't order a friggin' cup of coffee without being sexually harassed?"

I decide I'd really rather not be here, even if leaving means not getting coffee, but I stay for Phil's sake.

"Next!" the barista hollers. The angry girl shoots me one last glare and steps up to the counter to place her order.

I'm glad that's over, I think to myself.

* * *

Girl's POV:

I shoot the sexually harassing strangers one last glare as I approach the counter.

"What can I get for you?" the barista asks.

I sigh. "I'll have a Venti, one pump caramel, one pump white mocha, two scoops vanilla bean powder, extra ice frappuccino, with two shots poured over the top, apagotto style, caramel drizzle under the whipped cream, in the middle of the whipped cream, and on top of the whipped cream, double cupped, the shorter straw, dome lid... Oh, and can you break a hundred?"

"Sure," she smiles, "that won't be a problem."

* * *

Barista's POV:

A slightly miffed-looking girl approaches the counter.

"What can I get for you?" I ask with practiced politeness.

She sighs. "I'll have a Venti, one pump caramel, one pump white mocha, two scoops vanilla bean powder, extra ice frappuccino with two shots poured over the top, apagotto style, caramel drizzle under the whipped cream, in the middle of the whipped cream, and on top of the whipped cream, double cupped, the shorter straw, dome lid... Oh, and can you break a hundred?"

Kill me now.

"Sure," I force a smile, "that won't be a problem."

I keep the grin plastered on as I turn around to locate my manager for the breaking of the hundred. Technically, I need his code to open the safe.

"Luís!" I call, "Can you-"

"5-5-5-5!" he yells from the back of the store.

It's good to know that we have security measures in place.

* * *

Woman-Standing-behind-Phil's POV:

Why is this taking so long? I like coffee. I want coffee.

* * *

Chihuahua-Inside-of-Purse-Belonging-to-Woman-Stand ing-behind-Phil's POV:

I want food. I want a walk. I want food. I want to get out of this purse. I want food. I see a bird! I will get the bird and I will be happy!

I leap from the purse and race towards the bird.

I crash into something. I whimper.

* * *

Woman-Standing-behind-Phil's POV:

Crap. Dumb dog ran smack into the window again.

"Princess Fluffikins! Get back here right now!" I call after her.

* * *

Phil's POV:

The woman standing behind me moves suddenly. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a nearly hairless chihuahua crash into the window of the cafe. I wince. It whimpers.

"Princess Fluffikins! Get back here right now!" the woman calls after it.

Dan snickers.

* * *

Dan's POV:

I see one of those hairless rat dogs run smack into the window. It whimpers.

"Princess Fluffikins! Get back here right now!" the woman calls after her.

I find this amusing. I snicker.

* * *

Girl's POV:

I hear a bit of a commotion behind me and turn to see a poor little puppy running smack into a window! My heart breaks for it as it whimpers in pain. I think I may cry.

Then I hear a noise come from the one of those dreadful, sexually harassing men who read people's butts! It's a snicker.

I spin around. It's that tall one again. "Did you just snicker?!" I demand hotly.

* * *

Chihuahua-No-Longer-inside-of-Purse-Belonging-to-W oman-Standing-behind-Phil's POV:

Ow.

* * *

Barista's POV:

Dang. The number isn't working. Did the GM actually change it? Does that mean Luís is finally getting sacked? Praise the Lord!

* * *

Dan's POV:

"Did you just snicker?!" the girl with the word on her butt demands hotly.

Seriously? She's mad at me for snickering? But it was funny! I sigh and rack my brain for a socially acceptable response.

"Nope," I say, "I sneezed. Sometimes my sneezes sound like snickers. Sorry."

She glares.

* * *

Barista's POV:

I still need to open the safe though. I wonder what this button does...

* * *

Nobody's POV:

Silence.

* * *

Everybody's POV:

Chaos. Alarms. Sprinklers systems. Shouting.

* * *

Author's POV:

Wow. This was simultaneously fun and incredibly irritating to write... how does that work? I wonder if anyone will review it? Am I the only one who dislikes the POV shift style of writing? Did I offend anyone? Do I need to include a Shakespearean review? Will anyone follow this fic? Favorite it? Are they annoyed right now? If I started Tumblin' on Tumblr, would anyone follow me? Do I sound pathetic? Yes. ;)

* * *

Your POV:

Oh my god! When will it end? Why did I read this to the end? Someone, save me!

* * *

Keyboard's POV:

Stop hitting me.

* * *

Author's Mental Health's POV:

I should not write immediately after finals... these words are the result of caffeine, not brain cells.

* * *

Author's POV:

For a person who hates coffee, I sure write about Starbucks a lot...

* * *

Author's Mental Health's POV:

Please end this... please?

* * *

Your POV:

Oh my god... she's talking to herself. I always knew she had issues...

* * *

Author's POV:

I'm terribly sorry about this.


	3. Who Doesn't Like Unicorns?

"What do you mean you sent in the forms?!" Dan exclaimed.

"I didn't mean to!" Phil insisted. "It just happened!"

"But that had to be a hell of a lot of forms, Phil! How could you possibly fill out that many forms without realizing what you were doing?"

"I'm sorry, okay?" he said. "But look on the bright side; what are the chances that I actually filled them out correctly? I was drunk! Nothing's going to happen."

"But we're in the system now!" Dan groaned. "And I assume you told them we were a couple?"

Phil sighed. "I don't know... probably."

"Great. This is just great," Dan said sarcastically. "Like we didn't have enough to deal with..."

"Oh, as if you haven't done anything stupid in the past few months..." Phil retorted.

"I didn't try to adopt a CHILD, Phil!" Dan yelled.

"I didn't try to either!" Phil yelled back. "It just happened!"

Dan covered his face in his hands.

"Look, Dan," Phil began, "the process takes months; years even! We'll just call the agency back tomorrow morning and tell them that we changed our minds... It's going to be fine. You can't _accidentally_ adopt a kid. I mean, there are interviews, and letters of recommendation, and customs, and evaluations, and..."

Dan's phone rang. "Hang on," he said, pulling it out of his pocket to answer it. "Hello?... Yeah, this is Dan... Oh, I'm so glad you called. I think there's been a bit of a misunderstanding with... Oh, he did?... Well, that's great but I think we've... No, I don't really need to talk to... Oh, you're putting her on the line now?... ...Oh, hi there... Yeah, I'm so glad you're excited but... Oh... Really?... That's cool... Of course, who doesn't like unicorns?... Right... Hey, do you think you could put the other guy back on the line?... Hello? Hello? Or you could just hang up..." Dan muttered, lowering the phone down.

Phil looked at him anxiously. "Who was that?"

Dan took a deep breath. "Apparently, you're quite good at filling out forms when you're drunk. That was our six-year-old daughter, Phil."

* * *

**A/N: Hello Lovely Reader!**

**So, this was an idea that didn't really work for many reasons... but I had fun with it anyway :)**

**And of course, a Shakespearean review for you: **

**"****Go shake your ears!" (Shakespeare, William. ****_Twelfth Night._**** Act II, scene III. 1602.) **

**Best wishes!**

**~Bethany**

* * *

**WHERE IT WOULD HAVE GONE: Probably between chapters 14 and 15. I would have continued the chapter, but it became pretty obvious that this wasn't going to work out...**

**WHAT I TRIED TO PARODY: Adoption fics... obviously ;)**

**WHY I CUT IT OUT: It was ****_way_**** too complicated and completely unrealistic (not that the rest of my story is particularly realistic, but this pushed it too far for even me)**


	4. Whatever It Takes

"Phil! Phil! I need help! Oh god! Hurry!"

Phil instantly abandoned the dishes he had been washing and flew off in the direction of the screams. His mind raced as he tried to imagine how Dan could have possibly found _another_ way to kill himself after they'd spent so much time trying to suicide-proof the flat. He flung open the door to his friend's room, trying to prepare himself for the horrific sight he was sure he would find.

"Dan! What's wrong?" he burst in.

Upon entering, he was surprised to see his flatmate casually sitting in front of his laptop, typing in tags for a new video. Dan didn't even glance away from the screen. "Oh my god! Phil, help me!" he cried again, still typing furiously. "I'm uploading a new video!"

"Very funny, Dan," Phil scowled, annoyed. "Internet connection too slow for you?"

"No, seriously! Stop me!" Dan begged. While his body position appeared completely relaxed, Phil noticed that his face conveyed absolute terror. "I came out! I filmed myself professing my love for you and now I'm uploading it to my main channel!"

"Oh no!" Phil cried, racing towards Dan. "Exit!"

"I'm trying!" Dan exclaimed. His fingers were flying across the keyboard with supernatural speed. "No! I clicked upload!"

"Cancel!"

"It's not working!"

"Well, log out or something!"

Dan tried to move the cursor to the top of the screen to log out, but I wouldn't budge.

Phil attempted to grab the laptop, but Dan instantly shoved his arm away. "Dan! Let me help!" he demanded.

"That wasn't me!" Dan insisted.

Phil went for the computer again, but Dan shoved him away, this time with such force that he knocked him over.

"Sorry!" Dan apologized. "I'm not doing this, I swear! Oh god! 71% complete!"

"What?! How can it be uploading this fast?!" Phil called, hurrying back to his feet.

"I don't know, just do something!"

"Well, private it then!"

Dan's fingers flew across the keyboard. "Error!" he yelped.

"What do you mean 'error'?"

"I don't know! It's not letting me private it!"

"Did you try unlisting it?"

Dan attempted to unlist the video, but received the same message. "Error. Now it's at 82%!"

"Well, what do you want me to do?"

"WHATEVER IT TAKES!"

"Alright!" Phil ran toward the window and flung it open. "Dan, I'm really sorry, and I hope we can still be friends after this."

"Wait, what are you doing?"

Phil ran back across the room and snatched up the laptop. "This is for your own good, mate!"

"Phil! Wait, Phil!" Dan screamed as his flatmate raced back to the open window.

Phil didn't stop. "It's at 97%!" he bellowed. "Drastic times call for drastic measures!"

"NO! Please!" Dan begged. "There has to be another way! NOOOOO!"

Phil chucked the Mac book out the window. A split second later, he watched it crash onto the pavement below.

Slowly, he turned to look back at his stunned flatmate. "Erm, sorted?" he tentatively tried.

"You should know that I hate you," Dan said flatly.

"I had no choice," Phil replied. "It was both of our futures on the line!"

Dan still glared angrily. "Turning it _off_ was still an option."

"Oh. Right," Phil mumbled.

The glaring continued.

"There was a lot of pressure... I'll, I'll chip in for a new one," Phil offered meekly.

Just then, Dan's phone beeped and he pulled it out of his pocket to check it. "Oh, lovely," he said sarcastically.

"What?" Phil asked.

"Congrats, your video is now on YouTube," Dan read aloud from the small screen.

"Oh," Phil sighed. "Bummer."

"Yeah."

They both stared at the ground for a bit.

"Well," Phil began finally, "we could always just tell them that you had intended it as a prank video to be uploaded on April Fool's Day, but that YouTube had accidentally unprivated it early... most of them should buy it."

"Phil, it's the second week of May..."

"MAYBE YOU PLANED AHEAD!"

Dan slowly shook his head. "It was nice knowing you, Phil. Strap on your life vest; we have to sink this ship before it sails to Tumblr."

* * *

**A/N: Hello Lovely Reader!**

**Did you miss me? :) *crickets* That's cool. **

**I'm currently working with my sister on a new YouTube RPF right now... I'm excited :) We think it'll be mainly centered around Carrie, but it will involve lots of the British YouTube community (including Dan and Phil), Nerdfighteria... and superpowers. Stay tuned ;)**

**So, I've had some ideas for continuing WYWUAS: APP, mainly involving Melanie's journey though YTRPFWA, documented in letters to Dan, Phil, and Jenny. PLEASE BE HONEST WITH ME: is this something that you would be interested in reading, or is it time for me to move on from the WYWUAS: APP world? **

**I'm a very difficult person to offend, so feel free to speak your mind via reviews, PM, anonymous asks on Tumblr, limerick, haiku, Pig Latin, Ubbi Dubbi (did anyone else used to watch Zoom?) and/or Shakespearean verse. Here's one to get you thinking...**

**"What strange fish hath made his meal on thee?" (Shakespeare, William. _The Tempest_. Act II, scene I. 1611.)**

**Best wishes!**

**~Bethany**

* * *

**WHERE IT WOULD HAVE GONE: Before they met Jenny, but after things took a turn for the worse. Maybe between chapters 18-19.**

**WHAT I TRIED TO PARODY: The "coming out video" fics.**

**WHY I CUT IT OUT: To be honest, I just wanted to move the plot along. This scene was actually one of the original scenes that I envisioned for the fic, but I just never got around to writing it in time to upload it. I wanted to get to Jenny :)**


	5. Attack of the Epithets

The ebony-haired boy was sitting on the sofa, watching his favorite television show of all time: Buffy the Vampire Slayer. He turned his head (and the gorgeous blue orbs contained within) to the right upon sensing that his slightly-taller flatmate was standing in the doorway.

The one who commonly wore mismatched socks couldn't help but notice the look of determination in his brown-eyed, somewhat tanned, sexily dimpled companion's optical stimuli receptors. A fly was buzzing in front of the face of the member of the left-handed minority group, and the so-called "tallest lesbian ever" was attempting to catch it with a pair of chopsticks.

"Reenacting Karate Kid, are we?" the man who once lip-synced Check Yes Juliet by We The Kings questioned.

Without breaking his focus on the flying insect, the boy who had failed to upload the footage from his Vegas trip much to his fans' dismay murmured, "Wax on, wax off."

The person who only very rarely swore on camera chuckled and got up off the sofa. "You'll never get it that way, you know," the vlogger since 2006 commented. Moving towards the boy who had once reblogged urltima's Tumblr post of an animated version of himself chatting with Winnie the Pooh Bear and given hundreds of fans inexplicable "feels", the artist formerly known as "snowdude" attempted to sneak up on the fly from behind.

The YouTuber with 810,712 _more_ subscribers (as of 11:38 P.M. on June 6th, 2013) scoffed at the only person in the room currently old enough to legally rent a car in most American states. "Oh, and you think you can just sneak up behind him? It's a fly, Phil; they can sense it."

The insect, which had just landed on the back of the sofa, buzzed irritably. The law school drop-out readied his oriental weapons to strike.

Suddenly, the one who had helpfully informed Tumblr user "marlin-the-fish" on the location of his fictional son pounced at the fly, attempting to squish it. This unexpected move caused the person who almost always won the Dan vs. Phil competitions to accidentally stab one of his chopsticks into his the back of the male character who (as of June 6th, 2013) did not have any wristbands for sale on District Lines, however who did have some rather expensive but cute stickers. "Ow!" the one who had admitted to owning Star Wars pajamas on air yelped while the insect made its escape unharmed, "Daaann!"

"Well, give me some warning next time!" the one declared to be "cuter" by my fifty-four year old happily married mother demanded. "Don't just go leaping in front of me!"

The boy who's hair ranged from "orgasmic" to "hobbit-y" to "square" softened upon seeing the one who had instigated the Valentine's Day video shit storm wincing in pain. "Sorry... you alright?" the one commonly made fun of for his pronunciation of the word "literally" asked.

Thankfully, the man who seemed to understand the concept of belts had only received a glancing blow by the wooden utensil. "I'm fine," he replied.

The fly proceeded to land upon the the olfactory sensory organ of the northern man.

"Hold still," the person who was incredibly concerned by the ironic versus sincere enjoyment of certain forms of entertainment commanded the person who always put an excessive amount of emphasis on words beginning with "con" such as "contain" or "conclude"(at least according to your average Chicagoan).

Grasping the chopsticks once more, the purportedly incombustible boy carefully approached the person who's name would be spelled 16-8-9-12 in a common alpha-numeric code. "No, Dan, don't," hoarsely whispered the person who once "sussed" a creepy Floridian home, the bug still resting on the body part located directly below his glabella.

"Don't you trust me?" the boy who'd played the sassy ghost in a slightly irritating online RPG which had all its best parts spoiled on Tumblr long before the author of this fic got the chance to watch said video asked, feigning hurt.

"Do. Not. Use. Chop. Sticks. On. My. Face," the "cuter" one according to my forty-something year old therapist slowly demanded as the one whose name would be 23-26-13 in the reverse version of the alpha-numeric code used in a preceding paragraph of this story inched closer.

"I've dreamed of this day my entire life," the "Mexican" explained, slowly extending the thin pieces of bamboo towards his Sarah Michelle Gellar obsessed friend's nose. "Today..." the one almost always portrayed as wearing his black eclipse T-shirt with the white circle on it in fan art because, let's be honest, it's the easiest shirt design to replicate whispered, "I become... ninja."

The boy who'd written a very nice Tumblr post explaining why his P.O. box was closing about a year prior to the making of this fic whimpered, "I'm gonna be blind!"

"Don't move," the self-proclaimed internet cult leader who was capable of influencing thousands of adoring fans into inserting the word "placenta" into conversations which have nothing to do with child birth or even the infamous Twilight saga advised, preparing to pounce on the insect.

In one move, the one who slopped a Caramel Macchiato on random American girls in approximately twenty percent of fanfics involving himself attacked the fly with his chopsticks. The person estimated (using the ever-reliable sources of Wikipedia and free internet calculators) to be about 137,635,200 seconds older than the person who repeatedly claimed to be "articulate" rather than "posh" gasped. To the boy who generally parted his hair on the left's amazement, it seemed as though the person capable of consuming approximately one and three-quarter mince pies in sixty seconds had actually caught the fly between the two pieces of bamboo held in his left hand.

"Y-You... you actually did it!" the person who'd received red panda plushies in the post for a while stammered. Feeling his nose to be intact, the boy who'd admitted to enjoy smelling like a girl continued, "and you didn't Voldemort-ize me either!"

"What'd I tell you?" the full-time internet hobo/homo replied to the person who'd declared the cinnamon challenge to feel "like hell, only worse".

The two Sony Radio Golden Headphones Award winners watched as the slowly dying insect, pinned between the two Chinese food plate to mouth delivery devices, made a few final struggles.

"Dan, just put it out of its misery," the former Kool Katz gang member insisted.

With a silent nod, the man whose most popular video has the word "FAP" in its screenshot quickly squished the bug.

And with that, it was all over. One life was taken. One friend was impressed. One ninja was born.

* * *

**A/N: Hello Lovely Reader!**

**This was actually really fun to write :)**

**In case you're wondering about the title, an "epithet" (according to Wikipedia) "is a descriptive term (word or phrase) accompanying or occurring in place of a name and having entered common usage. It can be described as a glorified nickname."**

**To further clarify what an epithet is, I've included fifty-eight examples in this chapter :)**

**For the record, when used _occasionally_, epithets can be helpful literary devices. When used in excess... well...**

**If anyone else is considering writing an epithet parody fic (whether in reviews or as a separately uploaded fic), go for it! It's really fun and I'll definitely R&R it up if you PM me that you've written one :)**

**Now, how about a semi-appropriate Shakespearean review?**

**"If his name be George, I'll call him Peter" (Shakespeare, William. King John. Act I, scene I. 1623.)**

**Best wishes!**

**~Bethany**

* * *

**WHERE IT WOULD HAVE GONE: I have no clue, man. I wanted this in there somehow, but I had no idea how to go about it... maybe as one of Mel's fics? It really didn't fit.**

**WHAT I TRIED TO PARODY: Excessive use of epithets.**

**WHY I CUT IT OUT: Like the POV shift chapter, it's more of a _style_ parody than a _plot_ parody, so it didn't really fit. **


	6. Would You Dare, Or Rather Truth?

"Guys, are you two ready for bed yet?" Jenny asked as she closed her laptop. It was late on the first night of the convention -technically early the next morning- and she had given up her melazingfirekickstickzneribedtimehexaplantbrycooll ikeradgemonkeyssayhootto  
snakesOMFGDFTBA_13 fanfiction studies for the present.

"Would you rather leave the light on, or turn it off?" Phil asked from his roll-away bed.

"Uh, turn it off please," she answered. "Why? Do you normally sleep with it on or something?"

Dan jumped in. "Dare: turn off the light using only your right knee, whilst standing on your head."

Jenny laughed, "That's okay, thanks. I think I'll just do it the normal way." She got up to walk across the hotel room towards the switch.

"Truth: if one of your friends were to forget his toothpaste, would you let him borrow yours?" Dan called after her.

"Are... you asking to borrow my toothpaste?" Jenny asked halting in front of the light switch. "Because you don't have to be all hypothetical about it; you can just ask me."

Phil sat up and fumbled around in his bag, "Dan, would you rather borrow my toothpaste or Jenny's?"

"Truth: are either of you sick?" he asked.

"I'm not," Jenny answered hesitantly. "I'm confused; are you two playing some sort of game right now?"

"Would you rather use spearmint or wintergreen?" Phil asked his flatmate, ignoring Jenny's question.

Dan shrugged, "Dare: eat the entire tube of toothpaste."

Phil rolled his eyes. "Would you rather I get fluoride poisoning or just not do that?"

"Technically, you'd have to eat like, twelve tubes for that to happen," Jenny pointed out, "but, seriously, what are you guys doing?"

Phil turned to her. "Would you rather us try to explain what we think is happening, or you just guess until you get it?"

"Dare: try to figure out what the hell is going on," Dan interjected.

"Alright," Jenny sighed, "can you _stop_ playing this game?"

"Truth: have you ever played a game you didn't want to be playing?" Dan continued.

"So, you _can't_ stop playing this game?" she clarified.

Phil tried again. "Would you rather be under the control of an unhealthily obsessed fifteen-year-old or be able to formulate your sentences like a sane person?"

"Okay, so I get that you're playing 'Would You Rather' and 'Truth Or Dare', and you also seem unable to stop... right?"

"Would you rather me nod or just say 'yes'?" Phil asked.

"You're getting pretty good at this," Jenny commented. "Alright, let's think about it. This is an weird one; I'm not sure of the official protocol..."

Dan thought for a second. "Dare: explain the official protocols you _do_ know."

"Well, I mean for angst, everyone knows you need to kiss," she explained. "For danger and drama, you need to physically save or restrain the victim. For fluff you basically just play along... but this plot is pretty specific to phan stories. You just don't see it much in other venues, so we never really thought through the protocol in YTRPFWA training. Sorry."

"Truth: why is this a part of phanfics?" asked Dan.

"Hypothetical games are interesting ways to discover an OC's backstory. 'Truth Or Dare', 'Would You Rather', and 'Never Have I Ever' are the big ones... sometimes 'Twenty Questions' though... and once I read an 'I Spy' fic, but that was really stretching it. So, like, in a fic, someone will say, 'Truth: have you ever been abused?' or 'Never have I ever self-harmed' and then the OC will break into sobs and share their entire broken past with the CCs."

Both of the guys seemed to be trying to figure out how to word another question. Finally, Phil asked, "Would you rather share your deepest darkest secrets in front of a bunch of people during a hypothetical game, or just lie considering that it's ONLY A GAME?"

"Yeah," Jenny agreed, "it's a good plot idea in theory, but there is that logical error; people in real life just don't feel obligated to be 100% honest in hypothetical games."

"Truth: how does this game generally end?" Dan requested.

"When I play, we just do it until the slips of paper with the questions are gone," she offered.

Dan sighed exasperatedly.

"... but as we have no slips of paper here," Jenny continued, "...uh, I got nothing, man."

Thoroughly frustrated by the communication situation, Dan turned to Phil. "Dare," he began, "explain an alternative way to end this game that does not involve slips of paper."

Phil bit his lip in concentration. After a bit of thinking he turned to Jenny and tried, "Would you rather sit there and watch us struggle to communicate, or just ask us questions so ridiculous that the game falls apart on its own?"

"Fine," Jenny huffed, "I'll play along. Phil, would you rather make out with me or Dan?"

...

* * *

**A/N: Hello Lovely Reader!**

**Have you ever read a "choose your own adventure" book? That's kind of what we have here... except it's a ****_write_**** your own adventure.**

***overly enthusiastic and high-pitched voice***

**So, how would YOU like the rest of the story to go?! What should the epic questions be?! How do they get out of this situation?! Is true love professed?! Does heartbreak ensue?! Do people DIE?! It's all up to you! Your imagination has the power to take you anywhere you want to go! Ready for an ADVENTURE?!**

***normal voice***

**...Okay, not gonna lie. What actually happened here is that I ran out of steam with this plot idea. I don't really know what's going to happen next or how they get out of this, which is so frustrating that I'm tempted to use the only method I know to quickly end short stories: major character death. However, since this scene takes place in the middle of an already completed fic (in which I believe the only canon death was a _piano_), I really am at a loss here...**

**So, feel free to end it anyway you wish in the reviews, by PM, as a separate fic (just copy & paste my part if you'd like; that's totally cool), in that notebook you've had since middle school that you'd die if anyone read, in your brain, on some napkins from McDonalds, in a beautiful and expensive tapestry, through interpretive dance, in Elvish... you have all the freedom in the world here, guys. I wash my hands of this silliness!**

**(If you do write me an ending/continue it at least a bit further, I'll include your work in the next chapter) *thinks to self* (I'm gonna have to make sure my sister writes me something so that I at least have ONE continuation for this story... don't want to look stupid here... I might have to pay her, actually... you'll help me, won't you, kid? I'll buy you ice cream! Please and thank you.)**

**"(Thou) hast not so much brain as ear-wax" (Shakespeare, William. _Troilus and Cressida_. Act I, scene V. 1602.)**

**Best wishes!  
~Bethany**

* * *

**WHERE IT WOULD HAVE GONE: Between chapter 28 and 29. (It's supposed to be the evening of the first full day of VidCon)**

**WHAT I TRIED TO PARODY: Fics based on hypothetical games (I have nothing against this plot idea, I just find it very unrealistic that someone would tell genuine secrets during these types of games)**

**WHY I CUT IT OUT: Well, I never really finished it... and it was a bit sketchy...**


	7. Reviewer Submitted Continuations!

**A/N: Hello Lovely Reader!**

**First off, allow me to give a HUGE thanks to anyone who continued this story. You are all FANTASTIC and you ALL earn three gallons of virtual ice cream (or the soy crap if you're lactose intolerant ;)).**

**I must say, I was quite surprised by the Phenny-to-Phan ratio in the ships. I was really expecting there to be much more Phan... *eyes you all suspiciously* Do you guys actually like the Phenny pairing, or is it just because in this particular fictional universe, Phan isn't considered canon? O_o Either way, thanks sooo much for participating! I really enjoyed reading all the different versions of this story :)**

**And now, moving on to your lovely continuations...**

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**The marvelous livvylovesyou has provided us with the following gem (ship: Phenny):**

Phil laughed. "Truth: what would you do if I chose you?" Beside him, Dan made a snorting sound reminiscent of a middle-school boy. He stiffened. Apparently Dan knew about his Jenny thing, or had at least hypothesized that that was the case. He thought back to her question, and how easy it would be to just admit it. He knew, however, that she hadn't been serious. It was a simple question. And since for Jenny this was all just a game, he resigned to joking. "Truth: Dan, are you jealous?"

Dan shook his head, grinning, and Phil felt a mild flush creeping up under his skin. "Dare: then do it." Dan said with a devious smirk. Phil's palms began to sweat.

He also felt himself straining to keep himself on the bed, to not jump up and over to where she reclined. He held on to handfuls of the sheets, long breaths the only thing keeping him sane.

Then: "Dare: don't." from Jenny. Phil immediately felt his muscles relax.

Jenny turned, sitting up on the edge of the bed. "Wait." she said, taking Phil's arm. He stiffened. "Did you feel inclined to eat an entire tube of toothpaste when Dan dared you?" Phil shook his head. "Well, I never felt like shutting off the light standing on my head, so..."

"So." Phil managed, swallowing.

"Truth: Do you think you need to kiss Phil?" Dan interjected.

Jenny slipped off the bed, pacing. "Maybe."

And Phil felt the sudden urge to stand. He tried his best to hold himself back under the grounds that she was Jenny, and she was in recovery, and he couldn't do that to her. But the game was making up his mind for him, and the game wanted him to corner her against the wall and wrap his arms around her back and feel her move ever closer to him, melting into him as he kissed her and kissed her and kissed her...

He hadn't realized his eyes were closed, but when he opened them, he was looking into hers. He could feel his own blood pulsing quickly in his veins. She shook her head slightly, and he tried to fight it, for her sake.

"Dare: stop being such a baby." And Phil felt Dan's hand come down firmly on the back of his head, pushing him forward until he fell over, and his lips crashed briefly against Jenny's before he lost his balance and they both fell to the ground.

Underneath him, Jenny narrowed her eyes, obviously furious. Phil rolled off of her quickly, feeling exceptionally guilty but also sort of free. "I'm so sorry!" he cried, getting himself as far away from her as possible.

Dan extended a hand to Jenny, who gratefully accepted. "How did that break the curse?" he exclaimed.

"You're not always gay." she mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm going for a walk. Don't wait up." she said, and she stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

**Let me just say I FREAKING LOVE THIS. You totally kept Jenny in character and even referenced the fact that she's still in recovery. (And your descriptions are fantastic... I envy your description-writing abilities) I love the angst-y ending too :) Congrats, livvylovesyou! Thank you so much!**

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**Next, the lovely DovahFinn decided to play the game out to its logical conclusion *applause for her brilliance* (ship: neutral)**

..."Fine," Jenny huffed, "I'll play along. Phil, would you rather make out with me or Dan?"

Phil's mouth hung open, staring at Jenny with a horrified expression. Jenny raised an eyebrow. "What? It's a legitimate question," she said defensively, crossing her arms defensively.

"Truth: Could you NOT think of a less creepy question?" asked Dan, rolling his eyes.

Jenny huffed. "Well, you wanted ridiculous questions, so I delivered!" she cried exasperatedly. She paused for a moment before suddenly pointing her finger at Dan. "Dare," she proclaimed loudly,"Stop talking in Truth or Dare questions!" Dan paused, his mouth hanging open stupidly.

"Er- okay?" he said. He let out a sigh of relief, reaching up to touch his lip. "Hey, it worked! Awesome!" He turned to Phil. "Now we just have to figure out yours.."

Phil shifted uncomfortably under the stares of both Jenny and Dan, glancing between them.  
"Would you rather stop staring at me or keep staring and creeping me out?" he asked.

"Keep staring and creep you out," replied Jenny without batting an eyelash. Phil sighed and began thinking of ways to break the game.

"Wanna just keep asking him absurd questions until it stops?" Jenny asked Dan. He shrugged.

"Sure, seems like fun," he replied. He looked at Phil with a mischievous grin. "Phil; would you rather lick an old man's stinky armpit or chew on a rotten yellow toenail?"

Phil frowned. "Lick an old man's stinky armpit," he replied after a moment's debate. Jenny smiled.

"My turn! Hmmm. Phil, would you rather eat 30 pounds of cheese in one sitting or a bucket of peanut butter without any beverages?"

"A bucket of peanut butter," he replied without a moment's hesitation.

Dan chuckled. "Jenny, that one was too easy. He hates cheese," Dan pointed out.

Jenny scratched her chin. "Oh, yeah, that's right. Silly me," she said thoughtfully. They continued questioning him for about ten more minutes, coming up with the strangest questions they could think of, but to no avail.

Dan yawned. "Phil, would you rather.. keep getting questioned, or just stop and go to bed?" he asked sleepily.

Phil groaned. "Just stop already, it's got to be at least three in the morning by now," he reasoned.

Jenny checked her phone. "Three eighteen," she confirmed.

Phil nodded and stood up, slumping into his bed. "G'night," he mumbled.

Dan and Jenny nodded, too lazy to get up, and ended up falling asleep on the floor. None of them would realize until morning that Phil had spoken.

**I love it! Great job! I like how you refused to address the shipping question completely ;) Also, you picked up on the part where it's really not that big of a deal that they're talking in Truth or Dares and Would You Rathers anyway because they could just go to bed. You are awarded points for logic ;) Oh, and you totally parodied my style of writing too (tons of dialogue, not much description) so that makes me happy :)**

* * *

**Moving on to the ending provided by my little sister, Rose Marion BAD WOLF (personally, I call her something else, but you know...), we have, uh... a very interesting take on the dilemma... (ship: Phenny)**

"Fine," Jenny huffed, "I'll play along. Phil, would you rather make out with me or Dan?"

Dan's eyes grew wide. "Dare!" he shouted to Phil. "Make out with Jenny!"

Phil looked at Jenny. Jenny looked at Phil. Jenny took a step towards Phil. Phil stayed where he was.

Jenny tried to fight it – she really did! But she'd waited so long for this opportunity. How could anyone pass up the possibility of snogging Phil? Maybe she wasn't quite as recovered as she thought…

Phil tried to move – he really did! But he'd always wondered if there was something more than forced suicide watches between them. How could he pass up the possibility of finding out? Maybe he didn't have as much will power as he thought…

"Truth: do you really want to snog Phil?" Dan asked Jenny.

"Would you rather she answer verbally or you just wait and find out?" Phil answered.

Dan noticed the look of… was that terror in Jenny's eyes? It seemed like some invisible force was drawing Jenny towards Phil. Phil stayed completely still. It was almost as if he were incapacitated. Dan wondered if he could move if he wanted to.

"Phil, dare: walk into the bathroom."

"Would you rather I fail or just not even try?"

All the while Jenny was inching closer. She was whispering something, but Dan could only make out a few words at a time. "Handsome… lions… Phil… my baby… adorable…"

"Truth: can you stop?"

"Why would I want to do that, Daniel?" Her voice was flat and emotionless and the terror in her eyes was replaced with a glint that they had not seen since they first met her. "You two ruined my life. But none of that matters as long as you stay here with me. And be mine." An almost evil smile crept across her face.

"Truth: is anyone else as scared as I am right now? Truth: does the phrase 'emotionally unstable' come to mind?"

This time Phil addressed Jenny, "Would you rather Dan leave the room under his own power or I make him leave?"

"Why not let him decide for himself?"

"Truth: are you sure you want me to leave alone you with this maniac?!"

"Would you rather keep your legs or have me cut them off?"

"Truth: what the hell are you thinking?"

"Go on Daniel," Jenny commanded, her eyes never once leaving Phil's. "Get out of here. I know you probably want to watch but it's not proper to ignore a lady's wishes."

"Dare: someone tell me what the fuck is going on."

Jenny was horizontally close enough to kiss Phil now. But, being only five feet tall, it would be a challenge getting vertically close enough.

Phil, ever the gentleman, saw this problem and quickly dipped his head.

"Truth: what are you doing that for?!"

Phil was millimeters away from her lips but he stopped and turned to face Dan for the first time since he was dared to make out with Jenny. "Would you rather stop me now or let me ruin everything?"

Dan took the hint. Racing across the hotel room, he grabbed Jenny and held her arms tightly. Jenny kicked and screamed her heart out, but Dan was too strong – which was odd seeing as how he was only about as dangerous as a pink butterfly even when he HAD been eating normal food and had not been constantly trying to kill himself. And yet, he easily trapped her arms and held onto her.

That's when he realized, she had stopped trying to escape. She turned to face him, lust evident in her brown eyes.

"Truth: oh, shit."

A devious smile grew on her face as she leaned towards the tall boy.

Phil's blood curdling scream was the only thing that tore them apart. "Would you rather run or die?!" he screamed as he opened the door to the hallway.

The large window that typically overlooked the parking lot of a Californian restaurant was now completely darkened by an approaching… pterodactyl.

"Dare: RUN!" Dan shouted.

"What the hell?!" Jenny exclaimed as she followed the two YouTubers out of their room.

"Truth: did anyone shut the window?"

"Would you rather me hang my head in embarrassment or just be eaten alive because I accidentally let a pterodactyl into our hotel room?" Phil asked.

"What do we do?!" Jenny screamed as they ran down the shaking hall, Inception style.

"Dare: run for our lives!"

"But it's a fricking PTERODACTYL!"

Suddenly, Kristina Horner appeared with tears in her eyes. "Pterodactyls aren't real. Now, I know what you're thinking. You're probably thinking: what? But Kristina! How can that be true? No. That's it; I quit being a person! Well, either that or you're thinking: duh. C'mon everybody knows that. But you can just shut up because I just found out! And the Pterodactyl was my favorite dinosaur!" She pouted.

"Truth: what do you call that, then?" Dan asked.

"Call what?"

Dan turned around to see… nothing. "Dare: someone tell me where the fucking pterodactyl went!"

"What pterodactyl?" Kristina asked.

"Would you rather—"

But Phil was not able to finish his question.

The bomb hurtled towards them and the building shook with the force of the explosion.

Blood! Blood everywhere!

Jenny and Phil spied each other from across the rubble.

"Phil!" Jenny called.

"Would you rather me kiss you now or die trying?"

Jenny gave a weak smile.

Phil rose to his feet and hobbled over to her. He freed her trapped arm and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on her lips. She smiled up at him as the life drained from her once bright brown eyes. Gone forever.

(Started well, that story.  
It got away from me, yeah.)

**Well... that was certainty creative. You are officially the only person who killed them off, and the only person to include dinosaurs in your continuation. I am... impressed, Naomi. Let's all slow clap it out, eh? *applauds* Thanks! :)**

* * *

**Next up is the lovely Dolphelecat, asking the important questions (ship: leaning towards phan):**

I'm not sure how this would end. What was Melanie's motivation in making them play these games? Would she be able to make them ask and answer those specific questions, thus ending the fic herself? They could take a wild guess and profess their gay love for each other. Again. Generally these games only last for a night, so maybe they should just go to sleep and the problem will be gone in the morning.

**Very nice, very nice. Personally, it does seem as though Melanie was attempting to get them to come out again, as that is usually the purpose of hypothetical games in fanfics (that and admitting deep dark secrets). Logically then, the best way to end the fic would be for them to profess their love and/or act on that (i.e. making out). Either way, you've also pointed out the same plot hole as DovahFinn; why does it really matter if they can only talk in hypothetical game format? They're trying to go to sleep! This is an important point that I admit I did not think through very well... Thanks so much! I love it :)**

* * *

**Moving on to the brilliant ThatPotterheadTimelord, we have our first Phan offering... (ship: Phan):**

"Phil, would you rather make out with me or Dan?" Jenny asked, with a playful smirk.

"Definitely Dan!" He blurted out, immediately slapping a hand over his mouth. "I, uh- I didn't mean to-"

"Didn't mean to say it, don't worry." Dan said.

But Phil was already on his feet, shuffling slowly over to where Dan was sat.

"Phil?" Dan asked, a confused look forming on his face as Phil inched closer. "What are you-"

Phil knelt on the bed in front of Dan, eyes wide. "I-I can't stop." His voice trembled and he started slowly leaning forward.

"Oh crap!" Jenny rushed towards the two, grabbing a hold of Phil's shoulders and trying to hold him back but knowing that she had a very little chance of managing to do so.

Dan was now on his knees, a new look of terror replacing the confusion on his face as he too leant forward. The two boy's faces were now mere inches apart.

Jenny, having no success in holding Phil back, scratched her head as she looked around the room, trying (somewhat half heartedly) to think of a way to stop the oncoming make-out session.

"Jenny!" Dan and Phil exclaimed simultaneously, lips getting closer.

"Just hang on!" Jenny shifted nervously on her feet, at the same time nearly tearing her hair out.

The boy's both closed their eyes, cringing and praying silently that this wasn't really happening. Just as their lips brushed against each other, Jenny leapt forward, shoving a pillow in between their faces, breaking contact.

Both Dan and Phil fell backwards, gasping in relief. "Dare," Dan started, " don't do this again."

**I love it! :) My favorite part is how Jenny is only trying half-heartedly to stop them from making out: perfect! She is a recovering addict after all... ;) You also did a nice parody of my writing style, which was awesome :) Great job! Thanks!**

* * *

**And from our lovely friend ScrewThatInternetHomo, we have one more Phan offering... sort of. (ship: Phan... I think?)**

"Would you rather me answer that truthfully and make everything awkward, or tell a lie and still make everything awkward?" Said Dan.

"Dare: Tell the truth" said Jenny.

"Hm. Phil. I wouldn't get arrested"

Phil noticed that Jenny looked slightly disappointed.

Dan leaned over and kissed Phil, very quickly, and without any emotion, on the lips. Phil pulled back and spluttered.

No, they weren't ready to come out to everyone yet. (Well, according to this parody universe)

"Ugh!" Said Phil.

"YES! I can speak again!" Said Dan, thankfully.

"Dare: Go to bed" Said Jenny with a laugh.

They both groaned, and Phil said "If that's a joke, it's not funny"

"You just don't appreciate my humour" laughed Jenny, making sure to leave the light on, and she got into her bed.

**Great job! Thanks so much! I like how you stick with the internal rules of this parody universe, even to your apparent dismay ;) Very short and sweet. Nice parody not only of my style, but of my personal stance on Phan in this universe. Love it :)**

* * *

**Okay, now, the following continuation was most definitely here the entire time. It most certainly was not added later. If it seems new to you, I assure you that it must be just you... maybe some strange form of amnesia. I'd get that checked by a medical professional if I were you ;) **

**Alright, now, from the lovely GingerLover123, we have one more continuation for your reading pleasure (ship: Phan)**

"...Would you rather me answer that question, or buy you a puppy?" Phil said, begging with his eyes.

"Dare," Dan started, a smirk growing on his face. "Force Phil to answer the question."

Jenny laughed. "Right," she said, "And how am i supposed to do that?"

"Truth," Phil burst loudly. "Have you ever wanted to punch Dan in the middle of his stupid face?" Jenny giggled as Dan's face became a pout.

"Dare," Jenny said, rather unexpectedly, "get into a bar fight with Dan!" Dan's face was the epitome of fear as Phil smiled a little more darkly than usual.

"Would you rather see that, or me kiss Phil?!" Dan shouted desperately, hoping for ANYTHING to help him escape.

Phil pondered as Jenny snorted. "Truth- would you really prefer kissing me to fighting me?" Phil questioned. Dan stopped and got a far-away look as he considered his options. "Dare," he said. "Don't continue this-"

He was interupted by Phil tossing a glass of scotch on his face. "PHIL!" he shouted. "Truth! Where did you even bloody get that?!" Dan sputtered as he wiped away the noxious liquid from his face; since his mouth had been open, poor Dan had swallowed a large mouthful of the alcohol. Phil sniggered as Dan glared at him. As they continued the game, Dan became more loopy by the minute. After a while, he found the mini-bar where phil had gotten the scotch and drank a bit more. And a bit more. And just a tad more than that.

After an hour, Dan was- not quite litterly, but disturbingly close to it- shitfaced.

"Hey, Phil-" hic, "I was-" hic, "wonder-" hic, "-ing if maybe you'd answer th-" hic, "eee question now," Dan slurred. Phil eyed him warily as he pried the scotch bottle- now empty- from his friend's fingers. "What question?" Phil- well, he questioned.

"Who-" hic, "-oo yeewwwah would ra-" hic, "-aather kiss," Dan (barely) said. Phil laughed and shook his head. "Oh, c'mere, you-" hic, "love-elll-eeee lion, let's just-" hic, "tuh-try it once," Dan leaned towards Phil and- halfway to (a rather confused and scared) Phil's mouth, Dan fell asleep, landing on the floor and dnoring before he hit the ground. Phil gazed up at Jenny, who looked equally scared, confused, and giggly (she'd made a signifigant dent in the alcohol supply). "Let's not tell him when he wakes up, eh?" Phil whispered as he started dragging Dan onto the couch. Jenny laughed.

"Only if you don't tell my group that i have a new Phanfiction idea," she said with a hiccup and a giggle. Phil groaned as he headed off to his own bed. Tomorrow would be fun.

**I loved it! Great job at writing how a drunk person would sound; I could totally picture the scene. It was really funny too :) I have to say though, while I was reading it I kept wanting to yell at them "No! Don't drink from the minibar! You're gonna rack up an ENORMOUS bill!" But no, it was great :) Thanks for writing!**

* * *

**Shout outs to Midnight4568, Spiral-Of-Fools, and Moonfruit Infusion for your lovely comments and reviews on this chapter :) And shout-outs to everyone else because I think you're all da bomb ;)**

**Anyway, if you have any more ideas for scenes to be parodied within this fictional universe, please let me know in the reviews or by PM. I have a few more ideas, but I'm running low, so if there's anything you'd like to see done, hit me up :)**

**(Side note: The superhero fic writing continues... it's REALLY out there, guys... r-e-a-l-l-y out there. Hehee. :D )**

**"O, these deliberate fools!" (Shakespeare, William. ****_The Merchant of Venice._**** Act II, scene IX. 1605.)**

**Best wishes!  
~Bethany**


	8. Priorities

While Dan and Phil had attempted to keep up some semblance of their normal lives so as not to worry the fans, YouNow shows were the first to go. It was stressful enough to have to be on Radio 1 live every Sunday; the last thing either of them wanted to do was give their fans another opportunity to see just how mental their lives had become.

Unfortunately, the fans were less than understanding. Dan and Phil received many messages telling them that they had "sold out" and that they didn't care about their fans anymore. While the constant bombardment of hate for their decision annoyed the two guys, they didn't really do anything about it until the Phandom decided to boycott the radio show.

"Okay, how does this even make sense?" Phil demanded. "They want to see _more_ of us, right? So they protest what we give them? That's the most illogical thing they could have possibly come up with!"

"'You're selling out'," Dan bitterly mocked the comment section on his latest video in a high pitched voice, "'you and Phil used to be so invested in your fans and now you're neglecting us! We wanna see Phil sit in cereal and say "ass"! We wanna see Dan fall out of chairs! We wanna type "placenta llamas" five hundred times in the chat until you notice us... and we want it NOW!'" He closed out of the browser, "Oh really, phandom?" he continued angrily. "You wanna see us sit in cereal? Because we just thought we'd focus our efforts on _fucking staying alive_ for you!"

As they had no real solution to the live show problem, Dan and Phil just tried to avoid the drama on Twitter, Tumblr, Facebook, and the like as much as possible. They couldn't exactly explain why they had stopped YouNow, so it was growing increasingly irritating that the phandom members would not stop bugging them about it. Not to mention their radio show ratings were dropping. Apparently, some of the more bitter members of the phandom had started recording the show and illegally distributing it to other Dan-and-Phil-starved fans, meaning that while people were still listening, the BBC was not earning the revenue from it.

"Listen guys," their boss told them one Sunday, "I don't know what's going on or why your popularity is diminishing so rapidly, but I really need you two to work on it as it's now affecting us too. I've received multiple calls talking about a 'boycott' of the show. What did you _do_?"

Dan glanced at the ground nervously.

Phil sighed. "We stopped doing live shows on YouNow," he offered truthfully. "Some people got a bit upset about it."

"Why did you stop?"

"No time," Dan lied. "We just have a lot of commitments and YouNow isn't really our biggest priority at the moment."

The supervisor narrowed his eyes at them, "How long is a live show?" he asked.

"Like... an hour," Phil mumbled.

"You're telling me that you don't have an extra hour in your week to read some comments off a screen and make stupid jokes?" he asked skeptically.

"Well, it's more than-" Dan began.

"Look, obviously YouNow isn't part of your contract so we can't really make you do anything about it, but if _one hour_ a week is the difference between whether this radio show is a success or a failure, then maybe it should be higher on your priority list," he said shortly.

"Yes sir," Phil said, "we'll make it a priority."

"Good."

As soon the two left the meeting, Dan groaned. "Phil, how could you tell him we can just start doing live shows again? It's hard enough to keep churning out videos as it is!"

"It's one hour," Phil replied, "we can do it together and we'll get through it. If we can handle the radio show, then we can handle YouNow. It's not that much different."

"Yeah, it is," Dan argued. "At home we don't have a sound effects board or a reason to keep covering up stuff with rapping poultry noises!"

"We'll figure it out," Phil sighed. "We can make it work; I just... don't want to lose the radio show, okay?"

Dan nodded glumly. He didn't want to lose the show either. "Tomorrow night then?"

"Tomorrow night," Phil affirmed.

The next evening, Dan and Phil were more nervous than they had thought possible to be for a stupid internet show. After informing the social media sites of their triumphant return to YouNow, they had attracted a bigger crowd of viewers than ever before.

"You ready for this?" Dan asked as he set up his computer. He felt as though he might be physically sick and he couldn't help but notice that his flatmate's leg was shaking uncontrollably.

"It has to be done," Phil whispered. "Just... we have to cover for each other if this is going to work."

Dan tried to put on a neutral face as they connected to the server. "And we're live!" he announced, watching as the chat exploded.

_"OMG! Where have you been?"  
"About bloody time!"  
"DANDANDANDANDANDANDANDANDANDANDANDANDANDANDANDAND ANDANDANDANDANDANDANDANDA"  
"marry me philip"  
"where were u?"  
"say my name plz"_

"Ha, sorry guys!" Dan laughed nervously, "Things just got really busy for a while. You know how it goes."

"_What are you even doing now?"  
"not videos lol!"  
"say my name?"  
"i still luv u"  
"the radio show kinda sucks cuz it's so forced now"  
"Seriously tho, where have you been!1!"_

"Guys, we do more than just videos," Phil explained. "Plus, I'M GA-"

"GANDALF!" Dan shouted over Phil, shoving his friend out of the screen for a second. He quickly recovered and continued. "Er, Phil might be playing the role of Gandalf in a YouTube Lord of the Rings... adaption thing... stay tuned," he quickly covered for his flatmate.

_"Why did you push Phil away?"  
"Did you just punch him?"  
"LOTR!"  
"YAAYYY!"  
"om fighting?!"  
"Hiiiiiii!"  
"god dan what r u doin"  
"It's my birthday today..."_

Dan forced a laugh and looked to Phil, who was scrambling back to his place on the sofa. "Haha, got you!" he said, his eyes pleading his friend to help him cover.

"Oh yeah!" Phil chuckled, turning back to the screen. "Dan owed me that one. I ate his cereal this morning and he said he'd get back at me for it."

"Yeah, let this be a lesson to you all," Dan took over, "nobody eats my cereal!"

While most of the fans continued to talk about the incident, a few people in the chat moved on to different subjects and Dan jumped at them, eager to steer the conversation away. Five minutes later, Dan had moved onto discussing the latest movie that he had seen in response to a chat question.

"Yeah," he laughed, "so the best part was when the guy I'M GA-"

"GANGRENE!" Phil jumped in as he shoved his friend away from the camera.

From his position on the floor, Dan shot him a "what the fuck?" look.

"Gangrene," Phil repeated, trying to cover for himself but drawing a blank as to what to say next.

The chat erupted again:

_"WTF?"  
"da hell is gang green?"  
"u in a gang?"  
"isn't that a disease?"  
"r u 2 high?"  
"Phil why did you shove him?"_

Phil grabbed Dan's hand and held it in the view of the screen, "See?" he demanded, indicating some green Sharpie marks on his friend's hand. "Gangrene."

"Phil, that's marker," Dan said. "And I don't think gangrene is even green..."

"Right... I was just thinking about gangrene... because it was a word in my crossword puzzle, and seeing that there was marker on your hand reminded me of it because the marker is green..."

"Well, that's specific..." Dan chuckled in an attempt to cover for his friend.

_"lol!"  
"gangrene!"  
"haha!"  
"ur stupid!"  
"I love crossword puzzles! We're meant to be, Phil!"  
"wait what's gang green?"  
"does it have anything to do with vlogbrothers? cos they're greens"  
"DFTBA!"  
"googling it"  
"OMFG! DO NOT EVER SEARCH FOR THAT WITH GOOGLE IMAGES! SCARRED FOR LIFE!"_

This went on for the next half hour or so. Every time one of them would begin to declare their love, the other would try to cover it up with a different exclamation:

Phil: "I'M GA-"

Dan: "GAINING weight! Which is why we signed up for the gym again, haha!"

Dan: "I'M GA-"

Phil: "GETTING a hamster! We finally think we can take care of a hamster..."

Phil: "I'M GA-"

Dan: "GANGNAM style! We should totally dance gangnam style... but, ironically."

Dan: "I'M GA-"

Phil: "GAPING at this adorable picture of a kitten! Let's talk about kittens..."

Phil: "I'M GA-"

Dan: "GRAPPLING hook! Phil always talks about how much he wants a grappling hook. You can't really blame him... Wouldn't that be the coolest thing ever?"

Dan: "I'M GA-"

Phil: "GUARDING the house with a new security system. It's really annoying; we keep accidentally locking ourselves out..."

After they had passed the forty-five minute mark, Phil "accidentally" disconnected and the show was finally over. The two of them breathed enormous sighs of relief.

"That was the literally the most stressful forty-five minutes of my life," Phil groaned.

"_Gangrene_?" Dan demanded, "_Gangrene_? What the fuck, Phil?"

"I've been hanging out with the ambulance drivers a lot, okay?" Phil said defensively. "Besides, _grappling hook_?"

"But _gangrene_? There have to be like, a million words in the English language that start with _G_ and you picked _gangrene_?"

"You know what? Shut up."

Dan giggled, "Your mum has gangrene."

"Do you even know what it is?"

"Sort of."

Phil shook his head slowly and got up to head off to his room. "Goodnight, Dan."

* * *

**A/N: Hello Lovely Reader!**

**It's been a while, hasn't it?**

**First, I feel the need to apologize for the tone of this fic; it's kind of negative/biased against the phandom. The reason for that is that I wrote this chapter right after I had somehow managed to get involved in some phandom-related Tumblr drama... yeah. If you've ever done that, I'm sure you can relate. I don't recommend it; life's too short :p**

**Anyway, I was slightly mad at the phandom, which is probably why I portrayed Dan and Phil as... well, sort of jerks. Sorry about that. For the record, I do not believe that Dan and Phil are jerks and I've since made up with the phandom... so it's all cool :)**

**Oh, and let me help you out. You DO NOT want to google gangrene (Basically, it's a condition in which part of your flesh actually dies because of an infection or lack of blood flow). Let me repeat: I do NOT recommend googling it-especially with images. Don't say I didn't warn you...**

**If you have any more ideas/prompts for situations to be parodied within this fictional universe, let me know and I'll see what I can do :)**

**And now, the most applicable line I could find from our revered playwright: **

**"The pox upon (thine) green-sickness!" (Shakespeare, William. ****_Pericles, Prince of Tyre._**** Act IV, scene VI. 1609).**

**Best wishes!  
~Bethany**

* * *

**WHERE IT WOULD HAVE GONE: Probably between chapter 15-16.**

**WHAT I TRIED TO PARODY: The "accidental coming out in a live show" plot idea.**

**WHY I CUT IT OUT: It's weird... and Dan and Phil are kind of mean in it and I don't really want to portray them that way... Meh.**


	9. In Which Phil Defies the Laws of Physics

"Jenny!" Dan yelled, staring in shock at his flatmate's unconscious, shaking, frame. "I think he's dying!"

After waiting a full half hour past the time Phil had agreed to get up and switch with him, Dan had wandered into his friend's room to see if he was awake. It was four-thirty in the morning and Phil lay in his bed, sheets tangled all around him and sweat dripping off his body as he babbled incoherently.

"Alright, I'm coming! I'm coming!" Jenny called back, hurrying into the bedroom. She flicked on the light switch. "What's wrong?"

Phil let out an indistinct moan, still shivering violently.

"I'm not sure but I think he's really ill," Dan replied anxiously. He lay a hand on Phil's forehead, but recoiled instantly. "Oh god! He's fucking hot!" Dan hissed.

Jenny sighed wistfully, "I know, right? Especially when the sweat makes his fringe stick to his face around th-"

"No not like that!" Dan groaned. "His temperature! You could fry an egg on him for fuck's sake! What's wrong with him?"

"Okay, settle down," she said gently. "He's gonna be fine."

"No, he's not 'fine'," Dan replied. He grabbed Jenny's hand and pressed it to Phil's forehead.

"Ahh!" she yelped, yanking her hand back as though she was being burned. "Okay, that is _way_ too hot!"

"I know!" Dan said urgently, "I don't know if I should get the thermometer or just skip to the ambulance!"

"Start with the thermometer," Jenny decided. While Dan ran off to locate it, she carefully pulled all the covers off the delirious Phil and got some cold, wet cloths from the bathroom.

"Got it," Dan said a moment later, hurrying back into the room. He quickly pulled it out of the packaging and stuck the cold metal needle under Phil's tongue. As soon as it beeped, Dan pulled it out to read the display. "That can't be right," he murmured.

Jenny was sitting on the edge of the bed, dabbing a cold cloth to Phil's head, "What's it say?"

"102.1," Dan whispered, horrified.

Jenny rolled her eyes, "You have to set it to Celsius, idiot."

Dan looked her in the eyes. "It is on Celsius."

"That's impossible; you die at like, 42.2." Jenny snatched the thermometer away and retook Phil's temperature while he coughed pathetically. The second it beeped, she pulled it out and read it out loud. "It's...uh... good lord! 102.1!"

"Yeah, so, ambulance, or should I just empty the contents of the freezer on him?" Dan asked urgently.

"No, no it can't be right," Jenny said shakily. "It-it can't! That's above the boiling point!" She thrust the washcloths into Dan's hands and jumped off the bed so that she could pace from one end of the room to the other. "This can't be a coincidence; it has to be related to the fics... So if that really is his temperature then why isn't he dead?"

"It's sizzling," Dan stated, lifting the now extremely warm cloth from his friend's head. "It's fucking _sizzling_! Think faster!"

"Well, get some ice then! I'm working on it!" she retorted, still pacing. "Okay, let's think this through..." she muttered. "I mean, illness tragedy fics usually involve a terminal disease like cancer... this is more like the flu but with a ridiculously high fever... so what could be the...Wait! Mel is American!"

"Yeah? So?" Dan asked.

"So she doesn't use metric! 102.1 _Fahrenheit_ is like..." she checked on her phone, "38.9 Celsius."

"Okay... and?"

Jenny laughed, "She didn't convert! Here, watch." She switched the thermometer to Fahrenheit and re-checked Phil's temperature. "See? Still 102.1."

"Okay, I don't get it; is he dying or not?" Dan demanded.

Jenny sighed, "It's complicated. My best guess is that Melanie was writing a sick fic, but she forgot to convert her units, which gave Phil an impossible temperature. So, he really _is_ 102.1 Celsius - which is something like, 216 degrees Fahrenheit - but he's not dying because she only wrote symptoms compatible with a fever of 102.1 _Fahrenheit_, which is only like, 38.9 Celsius... get it?"

"No."

* * *

**A/N: Hello Lovely Reader!**

**So, at this point in the writing process, I showed the scene to my little sister and received the following review:**

"OMG... that's the stupidest thing I've ever read."

**See kids, when you participate in a creative hobby such as writing, it's very important to accept constructive criticism from others. So, I decided to politely discuss her valid, subjective opinion of my writing in a calm and rational manner:**

**Me:** "Shut up! No it's not!"  
**Naomi: **"Yes it is"  
**Me: **"No it's not!"  
**Naomi: **"It really is"  
**Me: **"Says the girl who included _pterodactyls_ in her continuation of my story!"  
**Naomi: **"I was being ironic..."  
**Me: ***scoffs* "Sure, _Dan_... ironic. You know what? You haven't even _seen_ stupid writing yet, kid! Just you wait; I'll write you something so stupid it'll make your eyes bleed!"

**...etc...**

**So, eventually we decided to abandon my ****_fabulous_**** idea that Mel's ignorance of the metric system would result in Phil's accidental boil-age, and just parody a normal sick fic instead.**

**TAKE TWO! *snaps clapboard thing-y* ACTION!**

* * *

"Jenny!" Dan yelled, staring in shock at his flatmate's unconscious, shaking, frame. "I think he's dying!"

After waiting a full half hour past the time Phil had agreed to get up and switch with him, Dan had wandered into his friend's room to see if he was awake. It was four-thirty in the morning and Phil lay in his bed, sheets tangled all around him and sweat dripping off his body as he babbled incoherently.

"Alright, I'm coming! I'm coming!" Jenny called back, hurrying into the bedroom. She flicked on the light switch. "What's wrong?"

Phil let out an indistinct moan, still shivering violently.

"I'm not sure but I think he's really ill," Dan replied anxiously. He lay a hand on Phil's forehead and swept a bit of his fringe out of his face.

"Oh, a sick fic? Is that all?" Jenny asked, looking unimpressed. "He'll be fine," she shrugged.

"He doesn't look fine," Dan stated. He leaned his head in closer to attempt to make out the muffled conversation that Phil was trying to have with him.

"Why didn't you tell me there'd be so many people here?" Phil murmured into Dan's ear.

"What do you mean? It's just us here," Dan replied, worry showing in his voice.

"Huh?" Phil asked, scrunching up his face in confusion. He lifted a shaky finger and pointed around the empty room. "But there's lots of people here! Like... one... two... three... four... uh... what comes next?"

"Five," Jenny supplied calmly.

Phil smiled up at her. "Oh, hi mum..." he mumbled. "I dropped the rabbit... did you see where he went?"

"Don't worry about the rabbit right now, hon," Jenny answered as though she were addressing a small child. "It's bedtime, okay?"

"Oh... okay," Phil answered sadly. Then he pointed at the foot of his bed. "But why is Great Aunt Mildred here? Didn't she die?"

"Just a sec," Dan said. He grabbed Jenny's arm and stepped backwards from the bed. "And this doesn't concern you at all?" Dan demanded in a whisper.

Jenny shrugged. "He's just hallucinating," she whispered back.

"_Just_ hallucinating?"

"Hallucinating never hurt anyone... Okay wait, I take that back. But you really don't have to worry; it's not like he has a _headache_ or something," she chuckled.

"How is a headache worse than hallucinating?" Dan asked while Phil muttered something about a captain's log.

"Oh a headache would definitely mean terminal brain cancer," she explained. "If his stomach hurt, it'd be appendicitis - and the appendix would definitely rupture for dramatic effect. If he got a mosquito bite, it'd be malaria. If his eyes kept twitching, he'd be going blind... and so on. But he's just hallucinating so, you know, no biggie."

"Uh huh," Dan nodded slowly, still gazing at his wild-eyed friend. "So... he's fine?"

"Relatively."

"Then... I can just go back to bed?"

"Oh no, definitely not," Jenny shook her head. "This is classic hurt/comfort. Phil is 'hurt' therefore you get to be 'comfort'." She glanced around the room. "You'll probably want to get him a bin or something for when he inevitably pukes all over you and you tell him you don't mind."

"Oh," Dan stated. "Great."

"Yeah... and if you leave him alone for more than ten minutes, he'll be twice as bad when you come back. That's like, fanfic law."

"Good to know."

"Since it looks like the two of you will be up for a while, I'm just gonna take your sleep-shift, alright?" she asked with a yawn.

Dan sighed defeatedly, "Oh sure; why not?"

"Good luck then," Jenny said nonchalantly as she left the room. "Just call me if you have to do CPR or if he starts seizing, 'kay?"

"Will do," he muttered after her.

Once Jenny had left, he approached his half-conscious friend's bed. Dan carefully untangled the covers, re-tucking Phil in. "You look pathetic, you know that?" he whispered under his breath.

"Dan?" Phil murmured absently.

"Yeah, it's me. Sleep tight and try not to die, okay Phil?" he whispered into his flatmate's ear. "Because life without you would really suck."

* * *

**A/N: Hello (again) Lovely Reader!**

**So here's the thing about sick fics; I really like reading them. I don't know, it's just that they tend to be so cute and fluffy and innocent and... *sighs contentedly***

**But the other thing is that nine times out of ten, I think that they're completely unrealistic. Now, this could be just because I happen to be _profoundly_ bad at comforting sick people, but I just can't imagine any of the situations actually playing out in real life.**

**For instance, this is how I reacted a few weeks ago when my sister woke up in the middle of the night because she accidentally ate peanuts in something and was having an allergic reaction:**

**Naomi:** *coughs* "Mom" *coughs* "Mom" *wheezes* "Mom"  
**Me:** *groans* "Mom's asleep, what do you need?"  
**Naomi:** *wheeze* "Mom"  
**Me:** "Can you not?"  
**Naomi:** *coughs* "Mom"  
**Me: ***groans* *climbs down off from bunk bed* "Are you like, not breathing or something?"  
**Naomi: ***sputters* "Mom" *claws at own face, which is breaking out into hives* "Mom"  
**Me:** *sighs* "Hang on" *goes to get mom* *returns*  
**Mom:** "Oh dear! I'll go find the Benadryl. Bethany, can you keep her occupied? Make her sit up and hold onto her hands or something so that she doesn't hurt herself." *runs off to get the meds*  
**Me:** "Uh... sure." *holds Naomi's hands* "Okay, calm down. Try not to think about it. You'll be fine."  
**Naomi:** *coughs* "Do you know any poems?" *wheezes*  
**Me: **"What is this, _The Fault in Our Stars_?"  
**Naomi: ***pathetic whimper* "Please?"  
**Me: **"Uh... okay..." *thinks back to the only poem I know: a 108 line, 18 stanza Lewis Carroll poem that I memorized in third grade*  
**Me: **"The sun was shining on the sea/Shining with all his might/He did his very best to make/The billows smooth and bright/And this was odd, because it was/The middle of the night..."  
**Naomi: ***coughs* *groans* "That one?!"

~Three minutes later~

**Me:** *very dramatically reciting now* "...'The time has come,' the Walrus said/'To talk of many things/Of shoes and ships and sealing wax/Of cabbages- and kings/And why the sea is boiling hot/And whether pigs have wings'..."  
**Mom:** *returns with the meds* "Got it"  
**Me & Naomi:** "Oh thank god"

**...So yeah, I'm not the best comforter. I just never know what to say or do for sick people because I know that when _I'm_ sick, all I want is to be left alone and provided with an endless supply of tea.**

**You wouldn't think it, but I actually know a lot about medicine and first aid stuff because my mom, my grandma, and several other members of my family are/were in the medical field. So, technically, I know what to do in most situations and I don't get grossed out easily (last week I caught my grandpa's vomit in my bare hands so that it wouldn't get on his bed) and I don't freak out at blood... but I just REALLY suck at the whole "comforting others" thing :/**

**Since this author's note has turned into a weird, personal rant, I think I'll have to cap it off here. Let me know in the reviews if you have ideas for any other scenes/situations to be parodied within this fictional universe and I'll see what I can do :)**

**Complementary (and surprisingly applicable) Shakespearean review, anyone?**

**"A pox damn you, you muddy rascal! Is that all the comfort you bring me?" (Shakespeare, William. _Henry IV, Part II_. Act II, scene IV. 1600).**

**Best wishes!  
~Bethany**

* * *

**WHERE IT WOULD HAVE GONE: In the fourteen days between them meeting Jenny and going to VidCon (Between chapters 25-26)**

**WHAT I TRIED TO PARODY: Sick fics and fics in which the author forgets to convert to the metric system.**

**WHY I CUT IT OUT: Honestly, I just didn't write it in time. The second attempt I thought was half-way decent, but the first one was... weird.**


End file.
